


Tough

by Naughty_Yorick



Series: The Alphabet Game [21]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Idiots in Love, M/M, Oblivious, Pining, sharing food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naughty_Yorick/pseuds/Naughty_Yorick
Summary: Jaskier’s stomach gurgled noisily as he stared into the fire. He shifted, feeling awkward, well aware that Geralt could hear it. Geralt looked up, his expression almost apologetic, then passed him a little bundle wrapped in linen.Sharing food makes Jaskier fail to realise anything at all about the way Geralt keeps staring at him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Alphabet Game [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983026
Comments: 13
Kudos: 202





	Tough

**Author's Note:**

> I challenged myself to write a fic for every letter of the alphabet. I took each letter, plugged it into a random word generator and wrote a fic based on whichever word it gave me. This letter is "T", and the word is "tough"! See more of my Alphabet Challenge on my tumblr, [here!](https://a-kind-of-merry-war.tumblr.com/post/632799468062916608/alphabet-game-master-post)

Jaskier let himself drop unceremoniously next to the fire. It was rather painfully devoid of any kind of meat this evening. Usually, when sleeping outside, there might be rabbits or a pheasant crackling away above the flames, if they were lucky. If they were _very_ lucky, it would be a deer. 

The recently-dispatched werewolf stalking the forest had done a rather thorough job or either eating or scaring off anything worth hunting. Tomorrow, once the village was awake, they’d return for Geralt’s pay and buy apples and fresh bread. Tonight, it would be whatever Geralt could find in the bottom of his pack, which he was digging through meticulously. 

Jaskier’s stomach gurgled noisily as he stared into the fire. He shifted, feeling awkward, well aware that Geralt could hear it. Geralt looked up, his expression almost apologetic, then passed him a little bundle wrapped in linen.

It was cured meat - the last of the cured meat, Jaskier assumed. The rich, beefy smell had dulled somewhat after a week in the bottom of Geralt’s bag.

Geralt spotted Jaskier’s expression. “It’s all we have,” he said.

“Is this it?” Jaskier frowned, “What about you?”

Geralt shrugged. “I’m a witcher. I’ll live.”

“Oh, no, we’re not doing this again.” Jaskier shook his head. “None of this _I’m a witcher_ business. I refuse to eat while you starve.”

He tried, with no success at all, to rip the strip of meat in half. It was greasy and twisted in his fingers, refusing to break. He huffed, then was struck with sudden inspiration, and lifted the morsel to his mouth to tear the damn thing in two with his teeth.

He paused. “Ah…” he said, realising suddenly that Geralt’s sensibilities were more delicate than his own, and he would probably not care for a piece of meat that Jaskier had slobbered all over, “Do you mind? Sorry, it’s just so tough…”

Geralt was staring at him. His eyes were fixed on the meat, poised between Jaskier’s lips. Clearly he was hungrier than he was letting on. Jaskier sighed.

“You know what,” he said, “here.” He tossed the scrap towards Geralt who caught it, despite still looking far-away and distracted. “You clearly need it more than I do.”


End file.
